


baby, you ain't lookin' right

by Laurentia



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: And are mean about Susan, F/F, Fancy Dress, Happy halloween, In which the girls have a party, OT4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurentia/pseuds/Laurentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Lina: OT4 fancy dress Halloween party. To say that Vera is unamused by Rosamund's choice of costume for her would be something of an understatement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby, you ain't lookin' right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassanabaratheon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassanabaratheon/gifts).



Cora was the first to crack.

From her vantage point in front of the mirror Vera could see all three of the other occupants of the bedroom perfectly well and her eyes darted from one to the other sharply, waiting to see which of them would be the first to lose their composure. She hadn’t thought it would be Sarah: the northern woman was adjusting her hair quite calmly without even bothering to glance in the mirror and instead trusting in her years of experience to just _know_ when things would look as they were supposed to. The worst Vera could say about Sarah was that her face was the stony mask is usually settled into whenever she had to deal with people she didn’t especially like, which meant she was purposefully controlling her features, but she wasn’t laughing.

Rosamund, in many ways, was always laughing behind her eyes and Vera watched her the closest, convinced that the smug smile that had been gracing her lover’s face from the moment she’d handed Vera her costume for the evening would soon fall over into laughter. It was a closely run thing though and technically Rosamund _had_ laughed when Vera had turned away from the mirror to look at her, but it had been the Countess of Grantham who’d cracked first and sent laughter ringing out around her dressing room.

“Shut up,” she muttered, turning back to look at her reflection. She had been hoping it would be Sarah or Rosamund, she could shout at them but somehow, despite having witnessed Cora doing some truly filthy things, and being on the receiving end more than once, she was still the Countess of Grantham and Vera’s built-in class made it impossible for her to tell her off, no matter how much she wanted to. “Jesus, what were you thinking Rosamund, it looks bloody awful.”

“I thought it was rather fitting.”

“ _Fitting?!_ ” she hissed, glad Rosamund had taken the bait and allowed her to vent her annoyance. “I think the only good think to be said for it is that it fucking _fits_.”

Sarah smiled at that and crossed the room, rolling her eyes as she came up behind her in the mirror.

“It’s not that bad, look,” sure-handed as ever Sarah reached to adjust the costume, pulling the waist in tighter and loosening the back to lower the neckline. Sarah’s twirled the loose, ebony hair around fingers still damp with setting lotion and immediately the waves began to subtly set themselves in. Vera had never pretended to be half the lady’s maid that Sarah was – admittedly though she had only pretended to be a lady’s maid for a few months before becoming Rosamund’s lover whereas Sarah had waited _years_ and had plenty of time to perfect her profession – but she could see for herself quite how much of an asset a woman like Sarah was for ladies who needed to be maintained throughout the day. In only minutes she had improved the overall effect, however, the dress and her hair had never been Vera’s concern in the first place.

“ _You_ don’t have to wear a bloody stupid mask!”

Cora laughed again, giggling in the corner as she sipped champagne and readjusted her chest under the dress for what Vera was sure was the fifteenth time.

“It’s not that it’s _stupid_ darling, it’s just…” Cora bit her lip, trying desperately to think how to end her thought without arousing the other woman’s ire further. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been glared at by a bat quite so vehemently.”

Rosamund and Sarah laughed good-naturedly and Vera huffed again, rounding on the latter and looking her up and down pointedly. Sarah was decked out in a dress cut in the latest fashion but in startling white. She could have looked like a bride but for the lack of any sleeves to the dress and the drape of a cloak around her almost bare shoulders, fixed at just above her chest with a round, bronze clasp. She had a helmet in the same material that left her face bare and did little to cover the hair that was tumbling freely down her back. On anyone else it could have looked vaguely ridiculous but Sarah’s ruler-straight back and defiantly raised chin made her look every inch the Goddess of wisdom and Vera huffed again.

“I still don’t see why s _he_ doesn’t have to wear a mask and I bloody do.”

“For the final time,” Rosamund said sharply, losing the general joie de vivre with which she usually spoke and letting all of them silently know in the way she had inherited from her mother that the topic should be dropped soon. “Susan doesn’t know Sarah but it’ll do us no good if she sees you. You’re welcome to sit up here on your own if you’d prefer but I’d rather have somebody to fetch me drinks.”

Vera huffed quietly but didn’t argue further and turned back to the mirror. Rosamund busied herself with one of the bags she and Cora had produced the costumes from earlier, the Countess sipped her drink awkwardly in the silence that followed, smudging her make-up accidentally, and Sarah leaned in to Vera’s ear and muttered: “She also knows that you took her earrings so unless you want the _police_ coming…”

Vera didn’t verbally acquiesce but Sarah knew from the impatient jerk of her head she gave that the Irishwoman probably wouldn’t argue the point any further. Sarah reached up to grasp her shoulder briefly in solidarity before returning to Cora.

“I smudged my lipstick.”

Sarah smiled and dragged her thumb over the skin below Cora’s bottom lip slowly, never losing eye contact with her lady. “Oh m’lady, don’t tempt me.”

Cora smirked and reached to run her hand up Sarah’s side, her own shoulders just as uncovered by the grey-green dress that hung artistically around her thin frame. Her curls were piled atop her head, the odd one falling free already despite the crown Sarah had all but anchored to her head with hairpins. The spikes pointed out and Sarah had briefly worried that Cora might hurt someone but so far there hadn’t been any great calamities.

“You look beautiful darling.”

Sarah’s smile was small and her cheeks flushed but the pleasure at the compliment was evident in her eyes; she leaned down to brush her lips over Cora’s forehead and the American woman all but purred at the show of affection. To begin with being like this around Rosamund and Vera, both of whom had sniggered at the soft kisses and hand-holding they’d witnessed, had been terribly odd but a rather sherry infused evening at Rosamund’s two Christmases ago had changed that rather decisively. Now Cora was half-tempted to pull Sarah onto her lap and take advantage of the time they had left before the guests arrived. She settled for tugging on Sarah’s hands until her lover was leaning close enough over her to catch her lips and gently tease her way into Sarah’s warm mouth.

“You’ve got to be bloody joking!?”

Cora and Sarah broke their kiss, both smiling fondly at the interruption from the mirror and after briefly pressing her forehead to Cora’s, avoiding poking her eye out with Cora’s headdress and making sure not to headbutt her lady with her helmet as she did, Sarah turned with a long-suffering expression.

“What is it _now_?”

Rosamund smiled to herself as she unfolded the final piece to Vera’s costume, clearly more bemused than she had been only moment before and advancing on Vera.

“It completes the outfit darling and I’ve never known you to do things by halves.”

“Fuck off,” Vera said plainly already despising the fact that she was turning around obligingly for Rosamund, as she always did whenever the redhead asked her to do anything. Rosamund acted as though she hadn’t heard her at all and swept up with beguiling speed to drape the cloak over Vera’s shoulder. For her part, Vera suffered herself to be dressed but sneered at the mirror all the same and folded her arms in protest, inadvertently drawing the long cape around her body in a gesture that made the black wings attached to the back flounce rather impressively.

It was too much for Cora and she giggled again, reaching out to grasp Sarah’s hand, keeping her lover close in case Vera became aggressive. Sarah dutifully fell into the seat next to her, clearly concealing laughter herself and Vera glared at them both, letting out a growl of annoyance as she crossed the room and flung herself onto Rosamund’s bed dramatically to ponder why she had ever decided that these three were her best bet in all the world. They were admittedly better than Lady Flintshire, something Vera knew from experience having spent three years working for the miserable crow and her oddity of a son. She was far from keen to see her again, especially not while dressed as a sodding _bat_ , but at least the mask would mean that nobody would know it was _her_ they were laughing at. Not that any of Rosamund’s guests, bar the Flintshires, would know who she was anyway.

“I still don’t understand why you even bloody invited her,” she said out loud and Cora immediately concurred, picking up the thread of a discussion the four of them had had over lunch as though it had been ten seconds since the last time Vera had mentioned her misgivings rather than five hours.

“It does seem odd Rosamund.”

“She’s family,” with a careless shrug Rosamund approached the long mirror and turned this way and that, admiring the swirl of her artificially extended hair as it flicked around the tight, skin coloured dress that somehow seemed to blend with her freckled arms with evident enjoyment. ”And in families like ours blood overrides almost everything else.”

“But you don’t even like her!”

“Of course I don’t, she’s a dreary little thing and she always has been but family is family.”

Almost simultaneously Vera and Sarah rolled their eyes, the former having so little family that she didn’t understand the point of having one at all and the latter not having any time for the members of her rather prodigious family that she didn’t like. Cora hummed sympathetically as the only other person present who claimed to understand the necessity of duty but all of them were fully aware that she would have rather moved into a cave in Australia than willingly spend time with her brother Harold.

“We’ll just have to avoid her as much as possible darling, it shouldn’t be too tricky if Lawrence is here too,” Cora smirked and met Vera’s eye on the bed, still fond of the Irishwoman for the abundant gossip she had brought to the group about the much disliked Lady Flintshire. Sarah alone remained indifferent to the Marchioness but all of them predicted that after a brief encounter tonight she too would join in with their raillery.

The clock struck seven in the hallway and they all turned towards the noise with varying degrees of evident excitement. The revellers would be arriving within the next half an hour or so and they would have to rally around Rosamund as the hostess although Sarah and Vera had already refused point blank, the latter with considerable vehemence, to collect any coats or hold a single drinks tray. Downstairs there was the distinct sound of a knock on the door and Cora was heard to observe that such irritating punctuality could only mean it was Susan, determined to appear as Head Girl-ish as ever.

Together they made their way out of the bedroom and towards the drawing room the whole night would be taking place in. The table of drinks was already set up, the lights were lowered and the gramophone was crooning something vaguely mysterious that Vera had found about town. The odd game was set up here and there, a fire was atmospherically crackling and a barrel that had nearly cost Vera and Sarah the muscles in their arms was placed in the corner with apples drifting across the surface.

Once the party was in full swing it came as a surprise to none of them that Rosamund was the best at bobbing for apples. 

**

Five hours later Rosamund all-but skipped into the bedroom, rather more warmed by wine and quite content to throw herself onto the chaise and pull her legs up onto the end, grinning from ear to ear at the spectacle that was following behind her. Cora made for a rather fetching Statue of Liberty - not that Rosamund could claim to have ever seen the real thing - but no matter how prettily dressed her sister-in-law was it was never going to be quite as delicious as how quickly she became intoxicated by alcohol.

“Rosa-mund,” she sing-songed in her honeyed tones as she gripped the doorframe and poked her head around the door playfully, as though she really did have to ask permission. “Are we all sleeping in your room tonight?”

Rosamund grinned lasciviously and crooked her finger to summon Cora. She had opened up her sister-in-law’s usual room for the sake of propriety when she’d invited her down for the party, but it had ever entered her mind that Cora and Sarah might actually _use_ it and it really was just as well as she could only imagine that room was freezing. Hers was warm from the fire in the corner that Sarah had popped back up to maintain through the night and the central heating and as Cora came closed she could just about make out the small beads of sweat that were already appearing on her forehead. Rosamund had every intention of them all glistening by the time they slept in a heap.

“Do you want to sleep separately darling?”

Cora smiled with intent in her eyes and shook her head slowly from side to side as she approached the chaise. All of the guests had departed which meant there was nobody in the house they needed to really hide from but Rosamund was still very aware that the bedroom door was wide open and, as usual, she knew she would feel much better once Vera and Sarah were here and they were all locked away from the world.

“Then come here.”

Cora obeyed obligingly and Rosamund straightened her legs, leaving her sister-in-law with the space to settle on her lap. Cora’s lips were on hers before Rosamund had time to pounce herself and she could immediately taste the punch she’d created that afternoon on the other woman’s breath, strong with brandy and ginger and Rosamund, knowing what a lightweight Cora really was when it came to drinking knew immediately that if Cora had been drinking this then she had been remarkably abstinent all night if she was still upright and it occurred to her that Cora had been anticipating this moment all night. The thought warmed her more than any drink could and Rosamund wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law to pull her closer.

Cora’s lips were soft as ever and she hummed with pleasure as Rosamund stroked up and down her back, fingers teasing the exposed skin at her back and purring happily when Rosamund’s lips moved to her exposed neck.

“Hmm, I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

“Should I be worried?” 

Rosamund and Cora turned at the sound of Sarah’s amused voice and grinned.

“Of course not darling, I’m just warming her up for you.”

“I can manage that myself you know?”

Cora giggled but Sarah’s tone was playful and she sprang from Rosamund’s lap to cross the room to take Sarah’s hand and pull her back towards the chaise with her.

“Where’s Vera?”

“Probably burning that bloody cloak.”

Rosamund threw back her head to laugh and didn’t bother to ask whether it was true.

“What possessed you to dress her-?”

“She told me that she likes bats. Apparently when she was a girl they used to fly out of the church she could see out of her bedroom window,” Rosamund said, looking rather surprised that she had retained the information. “Or something similarly dreary and gothic sounding.”

“Didn’t mean I wanted to _be_ one though sweetheart.”

Vera strolled into the room, closing the door behind her and turning the key in the lock casually, still very much wearing the cape and Rosamund’s lip twitched at that although she shuffled on the chaise, very aware that Vera knew she remembered the little story.

“I think that went rather well,” Cora said brightly, already circling around Sarah and taking off the white cloak slowly. She had developed, with Sarah, a habit of talking over the night’s events whilst undressing, something Vera and Rosamund had never been obliged to do as they lived here more or less undisturbed. Vera didn’t disappoint the usual routine either and settled herself in the space behind Rosamund, weaving her hands around her lover’s waist and pulling her back until she was resting against her chest, something Rosamund did with relish. It was an entirely habitual display of affection and Sarah had to bite her tongue to stop herself from commenting on the arrangement; it had been a pleasant evening and promised to be an exceptional night, there was no use ruining it by putting the other two on edge. If anyone suspected them of actually possessing feelings it would only make them pointedly ignore each other all night and Sarah was already leaning into Cora’s touch and rather hoped it would be allowed to continue longer.

“As well as can be expected with Lady Muck in attendance.”

Susan had hardly covered herself in glory during the course of the evening, complaining about the heat of the room, telling everyone who would listen that it was only so warm because Cora and Rosamund hadn’t learnt how to appropriately dress themselves; taking part in none of the games and reusing to allow her son to do so either. The boy had dutifully stood by his mother’s side but Cora, as she always did, had felt extremely sorry for him being denied the fun the rest of them were having.

“Sarah, what did you think of her?” Rosamund asked idly, kicking her shoes off so they fell haphazardly on the carpet and reaching to do the same for Vera.

“Why was she dressed as Jocasta?”

Laughter ricocheted off the walls and Cora wrapped her arms around Sarah from behind. For her part O’Brien kept her face utterly innocent.

“I suspect it was supposed to be somebody more romantic but having a boy half you age dressed in the same style next to you didn’t do her many favours.”

“Nor did looking more like a washcloth than a goddess.”

“She wasn’t a patch on you darling,” Cora muttered in Sarah’s ear as she kissed her cheek.

Vera had already told them innumerable stories about the relationship between mother and son in the Flintshire household but seeing it up close was quite different. Sarah had spoken to her exactly twice, once to be complimented on her choice of outfit – she’d told Lady Flintshire it was Lady Grantham’s choice – and the second time to be asked whether Susan knew her from the club – Sarah had told her no, she knew her from the hall at Duneagle and wondered off before Susan had placed her. Lady Flintshire was quite the acquired taste the others had proclaimed her to be, but she always seemed desperately lonely to Sarah and she couldn’t in all good conscience dislike the Marchioness.

“She makes a terrible impression doesn’t she?”

“I daresay I made much the same on her.” She shrugged noncommittally and turned in Cora’s arms to capture her lips, hoping to stem the conversation. She certainly didn’t wish to talk or think about Lady Susan Flintshire when the time the four of them managed to spend together was so limited. “Shall we go to bed?” She glanced from face to face with a small smile and the joking tone of the room seemed to change.

It was utterly bizarre, Sarah though, how quickly the four of them could go from an atmosphere that was almost playful and innocent apart from the odd kiss being passed here and there, to Cora backing her towards the bed swiftly and the telling brightness of Rosamund’s curls moving out the corner of her eye as she slid herself into Vera’s lap.

Sarah had swapped their positions before they hit the bed and they fell with Cora underneath her, landing on the mattress with a small exhale between them. _This_ was considerably more what Sarah had had in mind when she’d found out Rosamund was hosting a Halloween party and they were all obliged to wear a costume. She didn’t object to dressing up, far from it given how pleasant it had been to watch her companions flit about the room in beautiful dresses, each looking more glorious than they had any right to, but the thought of this moment had been the enticement for Sarah. With a smug smile she lightly dragged her fingers up Cora’s stomach to cup her breast through the silky material.

Cora gasped against her lips and wriggled underneath her.

“Hang on actually, I better take _this_ ,” Sarah nodded towards the headdress. “Off you first.”

“Hmmm, I suppose,” Cora acquiesced with an air of being a martyr as Sarah pulled her into a sitting position and slid behind her on the bed on her knees. Cora’s objection was quite forgotten when Sarah took the opportunity to kiss the back of her neck instead and she gasped at the soft sensation that made her body quiver as Sarah’s fingers reached up into her hair. “You better be quick with that darling.”

Across the room, apparently not so distracted by Vera’s hand being halfway up her skirt that she wasn’t listening, Rosamund twisted and laughed at her.

“Oh be reasonable Cora, poor Sarah doesn’t want those spikes sticking into her thighs does she?”

It was possible, Cora thought through the haze Sarah’s lips and the brandy were inducing in her, that even on the moon one would be able to see Vera rolling her eyes and Rosamund sniggered at her own joke. Then again, maybe she just knew them too well now and knew exactly what to expect.

“Am I not interesting enough or something?”

“Oh quite interesting,” Rosamund said with a smirk as she turned away from the bed and hooked her finger around the top of Vera’s neckline, pulling the dress out. “I’m sure I can find something to entertain myself with.”

Vera bit her lip as her eyes drifted to the pink stain that was already encasing Rosamund’s throat, a rather obvious sign of lust that she always relished seeing on the other woman. It made her look as though there as a fire burning right through her veins and drew Vera’s eyes down towards the neckline of the skin-coloured dress where she might well have lost herself entirely to Rosamund’s touch were it not for the spark of memory. She smirked herself and leaned back on the chaise, looking up at Rosamund defiantly.

“Did you really think I’d forget?”

“Forget?” Rosamund asked, innocently, lightly and oh-so-insincerely.

“You promised me that if I wore whatever you bought for me, you’d model a more accurate version of yours.”

“Oh don’t be silly-”

“You’re going to have to take it off anyway Rosamund,” Sarah muttered from the bed, having completed her mission to make Cora’s hair harmless again and now dedicating herself to slipping the silk from her lady’s reclining and humming body. The northern woman’s eyes looked up from her task for a moment, wetting her lips as she did so and allowing Cora the moment she needed to flip them over until she was straddling her maid’s waist, bereft of cloths from the waist up. Sarah didn’t seem to mind the swap but she, meddler as she was, couldn’t resist still piping up – “And you did promise” – before Cora started to return the favour with her dress.

Sighing dramatically Rosamund waved her hand in such a way that Vera knew she was silently been given permission to do as she pleased. She smiled, knowing full well that the crafty old cow just didn’t want to admit how much she was looking forward to showing off.

“Come on then Godiva, let’s do this properly,” Vera reached to the back of Rosamund’s dress and laughed at the redhead’s excessive sigh as she unhooked each fastening. She urged Rosamund to her feet, kissing the other woman as she did and receiving such a kiss in response that she doubted Rosamund was going to hold her insistence against her for long. Rosamund wasn’t going to make it easy for her though and as Vera tried to unfasten the dress in its entirety she felt hands roaming over her body, pulling her close and tightly pressing against her chest, but she was not to be deterred and was soon able to unceremoniously pull the dress from Rosamund’s shoulders and, kneeling, pull it to the ground.

A small groan of pleasure rumbled in the back of Vera’s throat as Rosamund stood before her, excessive locks covering the majority of her chest but doing little to cover the flush that was creeping over half her body. She looked more Titania than Godiva at the moment and Vera was reminded of the afternoons they’d spent during last winter, trapped inside due to bad weather, forced to amuse themselves and how Rosamund had taken the time to give her what she decreed as being an _education_ in poetry and particularly Shakespeare. There had been a bit about a mortal singing for the Queen, she remembered because Rosamund had found it rather amusing to catch her singing in the bath and recite the line, but now she could think of nothing but that and she became aware, when Rosamund’s gaze on her began to made her chest heave with something other than lust, that she had been staring for ages without saying anything, kneeling like an idiot on the carpet.

Luckily Sarah and Cora didn’t seem to have noticed too much beyond the fact that Rosamund was naked already, and Vera was able to take Rosamund’s hand to pull her to her feet without comment.

“Is that satisfactory darling?” Rosamund spoke with her usual humour but her smile was gentler than usual and she leaned in to kiss Vera softly for a change.

“You’ll do,” Vera replied in kind.

“Be glad she’s not going to make you ride a horse through the streets Rosamund,” Cora commented from the bed. She and Sarah were both free of their dresses now, legs tangling on top of the ermine cover as hands moved over gloriously familiar skin and elicited sharp sighs and prolonged whimpers, and Rosamund licked her lips at the sight, eager to join them.

“Shall we?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, hands already pulling Vera’s skirt up until it bunched at her hips. Vera allowed the dress to be pulled over her head, glad she had already relieved herself of the stupid mask and rather pleased that she’d managed to hold onto her clothes the longest; still, it felt oddly natural to be in this state around the others. Undoubtedly sinful, but natural nonetheless.

“Better had I suppose,” she leaned in to kiss Rosamund with more ferocity, her hand reaching up to cup a warm breast and pinching the already hard nipple she found there to elicit a satisfying gasp from her lover. “Don’t think for a second you’re not making that fucking _cape_ up to me though.” 

 


End file.
